by J. A. James
Edith's voice came into recognition as she felt her strong hands around her arms. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Halva felt hot tears streaming down her face. In a slow agony, she uttered, "My mother. She's gone."
Edith covered her mouth. "Oh... I'm so sorry, Halva." In all these years, Halva had mentioned her mother only a handful of times to Edith.
Halva could hardly breathe, trying valiantly to stop the emotions from bursting out from inside of her. It was as if a surfer was trying to stop an enormous riptide from pulling her out to the sea.
"Halva," Edith said gently. "I think you should take the rest of the day off. And tomorrow, if you have to. Alright? I can drive you home if you need. Actually, I think that's probably the best idea."
Halva nodded, her eyes far off, distant. Finally, she uttered a phrase: "I'm sorry."
Edith looked at her. "You're...sorry? For what? You didn't do anything at all...you're just going to have to take care of yourself now. You are a daughter to me. If you’re going through a hard time, I don’t wish to see you go about it alone… alright?”
Halva knew she had hardly spoken about her parents to anyone at work, even Edith who she trusted. There was just very little to be said and not much good news to bring up.
Edith drove her home, both women hardly saying a word.
"Halva?" Edith called out as Halva turned around, ready to close the car door.
"Do you want me to call you tomorrow?" she asked.
Halva managed a half-smile. "No, thank you... I'll be fine. Thank you for the lift."
"In a couple days, then," Edith countered. "Please let me know if you need anything."
Halva only seemed to half hear her. "Yes," she responded absentmindedly. "I will."
CHAPTER 4
The death of Halva’s mother marked the initiation of the Drop. An oftentimes traumatic incident opened up a timeframe for the soul, now laid out and stretched thin in lonesome vulnerability. At this point, the Soul searched for answers beyond what the human senses could physically see and feel.
Humans took one of two routes at this juncture. Matthias knew it very well. He hadn’t forgotten, despite the years down on Gaia. He remembered monitoring his own case studies. Many of them hadn’t the stomach for a challenge. They either collapsed under the weight of the grief before resuming their lives in eventuality, closing the door on a greater understanding of life. Or, if they took the hints and pursued what their Seeker had to offer, they would grow in their own spirit and understanding of their path. Even possibly achieving Enlightenment and securing those much-needed energy units. Successfully crossing the threshold of the Drop required the aid of a Seeker. Combined with the willingness of the Human, bridging could be successful.
“Where’s the girl at?” Matthias asked. He strode into a room where two junior lieutenants saluted him. He nodded at them. He was ready for the debrief.
“Her mother just died,” Jing Hua replied. “The doors are open.”
Matthias nodded thoughtfully. So the boy hadn’t lied about that. He had been honest. A bit naive, but he now seemed to be agreeing to pursue their mission with a dogged determination to then get back to his own. He saw it in his eyes.
“Hmmm…” he murmured.
“You aren’t seriously considering helping him?” Jing Hua said, somewhat crossly. “He’s just another casualty of Ithes’ system.”
Matthias held up a finger. “But wait.”
He addressed the two lieutenants. “Thank you for your work. Leave now.”
He waited for them to exit before continuing with Jing Hua. “Casualty or not, we haven’t had a Seeker amongst us in a long time. He did just translate the shuttle syntax correctly.”
“What makes you think he won’t turn against us when he has the chance?”
“He doesn’t have enough capability yet, and even when he becomes a full-fledged Acruvae again, he will have his hands full with Ithes working to exterminate him.” Matthias walked around, musing aloud.
“I know you have your misgivings, Jing Hua, but let’s help him. Worst case scenario, he is exterminated. The best case scenario? He comes back to us.” He smiled, observing Jing Hua’s doubtful expression. “I’m ready to take a chance on this one. The risk we can handle. And a promise is a promise.”
His thoughts churned. What he wouldn’t give to see Ithes running around trying to tie up another loose end. “I don’t mind causing Ithes a little more grief either.” He smiled at the thought.
Jing Hua eventually nodded. “Fine. I trust your judgement. I’ll dispatch a small team to look after her.”
Matthias nodded. “They are busy repairing the fracture. Their resources are scattered. For the team you send, tell them to send this down to her too.”
He pulled a Joshua stone out of his pocket. It settled in his hand, emanating a quiet blue. He smirked a little. “Let’s have a bit of fun. Give her a bit of a taste of otherworldliness in the meantime. Until Griesen catches up.”
CHAPTER 5
She lost track of time. She left the blinds closed, shutting out all natural light. All she could hear was her mother's voice. And the regret she had…how much she wished she’d gotten her out of there. Wishes were like balloons that accidentally fluttered away. She hated balloons.
She had always been a productive person, but now – she couldn’t care less about anything.
Halva absent-mindedly walked to her mailbox, unlocking it. There was one letter inside, addressed to her. She opened it. It was for her mother's funeral arrangements. She closed her eyes. Of course... she would have to be the one to arrange them now.
Of course. It wouldn’t be him.
She’d lost track of him, anyways. She never asked for him after she’d left. Didn’t know, didn’t care. Her hands tightened into fists, crumpling the letter slightly. She could never help her mother escape her father during her life. But this... this was the one last thing she could do. At least her mother would rest in peace now.
The question was… could she?
As she walked back into the elevator again, pushing the 11th floor button, she was hit by the realization that she might run into her father again. Oh God... she wavered momentarily. Even in her saddened state, her body collapsed inwardly at the thought.
She hated him. Hated him with a vitriol that she never knew she could feel for anybody in her life.
She had, through steadied practice, nearly forgotten every memory of him for all those long years she had spent in that house of horrors. At least, so she had thought.
A flash of him began to trickle back into her mind. She pushed it away, wanting to forget the dread that arose in her. It had been so long.
She was five or six when the punishments had started. She had been playing with her stuffed animals in the living room. Her mother had been in the kitchen. Something smelled good from the kitchen. Mommy always had something nice there.
But no. It was there. Halva screamed out in frustration in the hallway, not caring who heard. It had been years, years since she had thought about her father. And now, she was right back where it had began...
The door opened, and she looked. Daddy was home! she clapped her hands excitedly.
He came in, with a dark shadow in his face. He looked at her with those ugly eyes. She had never seen him with those eyes before.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, throwing oblivion to his menacing demeanor. "Come play!"
There was a pregnant pause. "No."
Daddy always played with her. Why not now...? She froze for a moment, upset at the harshness of his rejection. Her voice rose to a high-pitched wail. "Why not?"
He snapped. "Oh, you want to play, do you?" he raised his voice several decibels. "Well then... after a hellish day like this, now I still gotta deal with an ignorant little shit like you!"
She shrank from every word he was shouting, trying to be as small as the colorful animals surrounding her. She vaguely heard her mother's voice in the background.
> He took two strides and stooped, his face an inch away from hers. Halva could smell something bad on his breath. It was gross. She tried to shrink away even more, as hot tears began sliding down her face.
"Fine! We'll play!" he shouted, grabbing her stuffed monkey. He shoved it in her face, and she fell backwards to the ground, shrieking. But it didn't stop there. He continued to press it into her face, holding her down as she struggled.
She began to panic, her little limbs flailing about. She felt a slap on her face, and she howled. It was followed by another slap, this time, it was rougher, and it stunned her into silence. It wasn't long before her hands and legs slowed from the ache of effort as it was hard to breathe…
And then... was it minutes? Seconds later? She heard her mother's voice in the distance, screaming.
~
She awoke later, finding herself in her own bed. Her mother was hovering above her in the shadowy darkness. Only one bedstand light was on, her light with the pink elephant at its base.
When she opened her eyes, her mother burst into tears.
"Oh, my God, Halva...! You're still here! Thank God!" she sobbed as she grabbed Halva's hands.
And then, there was another stranger, a man, on her left side. He wore a tie, and had a strange black cord around his neck with a silver knob at the end. He spoke in a reassuring voice that Halva liked.
"It was a close one, Mrs. Anderson. But little Halva here was lucky... please make sure she doesn't play with dangerous things any longer."
Halva looked at both of them, confused. Played with dangerous things? She began to cry, in frustration. The frustration of not being heard; even at this age, she was beginning to understand the concept of a lie.
Her mother looked distracted and took to shushing Halva as she nodded at his words. "Yes...yes, thank you so much for coming in at such quick notice today. I’m just so thankful… "
"No, Mrs. Anderson," he said quickly. "It is only my job. I am very dear friends with your husband. I would do anything in my power for you...his family."
Those words rang in Halva's ears. Her father. Her eyes scrunched up and she began to cry, remembering exactly how he had come to her, with such anger.
Her mother tried to shush her. "Now, now..." she whispered to Halva, as if she was trying to put a lid on a pot that was ready to boil over. She stroked Halva's hair in a concerted effort.
She nodded to the doctor over Halva's growing wails. "Leave it to me, now, doctor. Thank you again. We must pay you a visit with non work-matters soon."
The doctor took another look at Halva before his gaze rested on her mother again. "Yes, absolutely.
Another time, then. I will see my way out."
Halva continued to cry after the doctor left.
"Halva!" her mother choked out, and embraced her tightly as Halva lay, wrapped up in her blankie.
Halva's cries grew softer. "I promise... I won't let this happen again," she whispered in her ear.
"Mommy..." she cried out. "Daddy was so -"
"I know," she said quickly, a sad look coming into her eyes. "He was terrible to you."
"He smelled funny."
Her mother shot Halva a look that contained an element of fury. Another angry look... it frightened Halva, seeing her mother look that way. But it was not as scary as the look on her father's face.
"He was drinking," she hissed. "He promised me he would never pick it up again. He promised… me," she said softly then, and then buried her face in her hands, as she began sobbing.
He had been drinking... those were the words that followed Halva throughout the rest of her childhood years. Her relationship with her father was never the same after that.
He tried to kill me. The thought shook Halva to the core. It would be only the first of many times he would fly into drunken rages against her. Halva simply became a master of hiding at home. And when he found her, she began running away from home, first for a few minutes, and then it became days, and then weeks. It got to a point when she was fifteen, she realized that she could lie to get a job, and permanently get away from the terrorist that kept her forever on the run. She had simply exhausted all her girlfriends' favors and their parents began badgering her why she didn't want to be at home.
Because, she would say. I can't stay there. She could never tell them the truth. How could she? She figured that she must have done something wrong for him to treat her this badly. Usually every two weeks, there would be A Moment, when he would fly into a terrible rage. Her mother hid and cowered behind the walls; while Halva no longer screamed and fought back. There was no point. He never changed. Every time, it seemed even worse than the time before.
She was often ready now... when he started, she had a bag packed under her bed. She would lock herself in her room and slide out the front window before he could catch her.
She kept a shortlist of friends she could stay with. It kept her safe until she realized that she often didn't come home for weeks on end.
The year she turned fifteen, she dropped out of school. She couldn't concentrate, and it was hard enough between starting work, studying for exams, doing homework and escaping her monster of a father. She dropped the thing that she couldn't find any rewards in, at least, not in the short-term, where she needed it the most.
That year, she found her job with Edith, and threw herself into working full-time. She called her mother at times she figured her father wouldn't be home.
"Halva...come home," her mother would routinely beg her.
Halva staunchly refused. "Come live with me," she implored.
"Where do you live?"
Halva drew the line there. She refused to tell her where, out of fear. Her father was a monster, and was not beyond tracking her down.
"I'm safe," she reassured her mom. "I've got a job. I can take care of you!" Halva wasn't making much money, but she figured it would be enough.
But her mother always said no. And after thirteen years, it was over. Completely. Her mother had never given her an indication that she had been ill, even.
Halva closed her eyes. And even with her mother's death, all she could remember were the memories. She cursed, shaking inside.
CHAPTER 6
Halva rose unsteadily from the couch, where she was surrounded by pillows, rolled-up tissues and a thin blanket. She was thirsty. She felt haggard, having cried herself to sleep for what seemed like days on end.
I need tea, she decided, pulling out a kettle. Anything else was simply too much effort to make. As the water boiled, she pulled open the door to the fridge. A slightly moldy smell met her nostrils.
She vacantly observed the limp asparagus lying in the otherwise empty vegetable drawer. She was planning to grill them the day she had found out about her mom. The last thing she could think about right now was food.
Her doorbell rang. Halva looked up, momentarily startled, having been in a self-inflicted silence for seven days. She went over to the door as it rang again.
"Halva," a voice on the other side called. "It's Edith."
Of course. She could recognize her voice anywhere. Wordlessly, she opened the door.
Edith stood there, looking at her in a moment of shocked silence. "Goodness!" she exclaimed, as she wrapped Halva in a hug. Halva was barely responsive. “You’ve lost weight,” Edith said in a worried tone.
"I would have come sooner… but with the back to back weddings, I could hardly keep up with the next service," Edith said softly, her eyes furrowed in concern. Today was the first day they didn't have a booking the day after.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner… you look like you’ve dropped at least ten pounds. Halva, what on Earth have you been eating?" Edith demanded.
Halva shook her head. "Not much," she murmured. She slumped back on the couch, gesturing at the stack of papers on her coffee table. “I have made the funeral arrangements, though. So at least there’s that.” With those words, fresh tears began sliding down her cheeks.
Edith
grabbed a tissue and gave it to Halva, with a long hug as she curled up into a ball in Edith’s bear hug.
Long minutes later, Edith held up a bag. "You have to eat. I brought you some lunch." Without any further words, she walked into Halva's kitchen, where she began plating the lunch she had brought.
There was pate with freshly-baked bread; one of Halva's favorites. She unscrewed a thermos that contained a broccolini-mushroom soup. Carl had gone out of his way today to buy all the ingredients to make it on his day off.
“When’s the funeral?”
Halva looked at her with a sallow expression. “I’m flying out tomorrow to Lumsden. I’ll be back in three days, I’ll be ready to work.”
“I remember when Herve died.” Edith smiled, a small smile appearing at the edges of her lips. “I was going to tell you to stay home and give it more time… but if it makes you feel better to come back so soon, by all means.”
She sighed then, checking her watch. “I’ve got to meet the mechanic who’s fixing one of our vans. Still under warranty, thank goodness. Halva, please take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.”
Halva looked at her with tired eyes. “Thank you, Edith.”
CHAPTER 7
Halva hated funerals. They were the polar opposite of the weddings she loved to create, Funerals reeked of sadness and pain. Both things she went to great lengths to avoid since experiencing so much of it growing up.
The procession had ended; and her mother's white face peeked out from the oak casket amidst the shower of flowers which Halva had decided would esconce her casket. Her mother's favorite had been marigolds; and Halva had shipped in from stateside every marigold she could find from the twenty florists she had called.